


7 Weight-Lifting Poems That Will Get You Pumped

by wannabequeen



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannabequeen/pseuds/wannabequeen
Summary: Inspired by Ali's tweet:

  write me a HellaxLem fic based on this pic.twitter.com/NsNaCjUIc8
  — Ali, tea set witch (@ali_west) August 26, 2015
I was only able to write six before I had to go back to work so.... this might get updated later tonight!





	7 Weight-Lifting Poems That Will Get You Pumped

_The following poems were found in various locations throughout Hella Varal's temporary lodgings in Velas._

 

Behold this mighty ordennan

Whose strength is far beyond pennin’

She’s lifting ship stuff

Soon she’ll be hella buff

And then win a fair fight against Lenin

 

_[Research note: Lenin appears to be a dwarf far to the East. Little to none is known about him beyond his fighting prowess.]_

 

* * *

 

 

_[this poem seems to have been splashed with tea while the ink was still drying.]_

 

Here is my Hella

big and buff

Here is her bicep

She is so tough

When you tip her over,

You can’t tip her over,

Run away she's looking gruff

 

* * *

 

 

My Hella’s eyes are nothing like the sun;

Iron is far less hard than her gaze hard;

If steel be strong, why then her arms are guns;

If folks need lifts, she could pick up this bard.

I have seen orcs and snow elves, jacked and strong,

But no few muscles see I in her form;

And in some weight rooms they love my great song,

While sweet hella’s reception? Barely lukewarm.

I love to watch her lift, yet well I know,

That Fero hath a far more willing ear.

I grant I never saw a goddess go,

My Hella when she fights, fills hearts with fear.

And yet, Tristero, I think her will as rare

As any SHE MURDERED WITH HANDS BARE

 

_[the last line had something else written, which was scribbled out by a different hand and replaced with the current version]_

* * *

 

 

_[Found taped to the pantry, with several sticky finger prints]_

 

I have eaten

The jam

Which was in

This pantry

 

And which

You were probably

Saving

For post-workout

 

Forgive me

It was delicious

So sweet

Spread on toast

 

* * *

 

 

Hadrian asks what here could be evil

The answer’s a quick retrieval.

Samothes looks around,

Only Hella is found,

He scoffs from his volcano primeval.

 

* * *

 

 

_[Found next to a set of free weights]_

 

I met a war map from an antique land

Which said: some vast, ancient towers of stone

hold mighty books. Far from there, home again,

Hard-fought, a bruised-up visage lies, whose frown,

And furrowed brow, and sneer of cold disdain,

Tell that its viewer well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on this warlike girl,

The hand that socked them and the sword warbléd.

And from her mouth these words appear:

“My name is Hella, doing bicep curls.

Look upon my reps, ye mighty, and despair!”


End file.
